


Scattered Dreams

by Alley_Walk (AlleyWalk_writes), blackimpdog, Tod der Fata Morgana (AlleyWalk_writes)



Series: Used to the Darkness [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Asexual Allen Walker, Bisexual Lavi, Cultural Differences, Culture Shock, Demisexual Alma Karma, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kanda doesn't bother with labels, Lenalee is a total lesbian, Magic, No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Nonbinary Alma Karma, POC Allen Walker, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Selkies - freeform, Selkies and Shapeshifters have no concept of personal space, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Shapeshifting, Trans Allen Walker, Trigger Warnings for each chapter in author's notes, Witches - Freeform, supernatural tribes and customs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-06-02 17:53:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19446592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyWalk_writes/pseuds/Alley_Walk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackimpdog/pseuds/blackimpdog, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyWalk_writes/pseuds/Tod%20der%20Fata%20Morgana
Summary: “You know Kanda and Alma?” Lavi asks Allen.“Yeah?” Allen asks with confusion in his voice.“They’re Shapeshifters.”Allen gapes at Lavi. He takes a moment to get a hold of himself, and asks, “So there are Selkies, Shapeshifters, and…?”“Witches.” Lavi says, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.Allen was just a normal guy with normal problems. That is, until he gets transported through a rip in space and learns more than he bargained for, and gets adopted by a tribe of Selkies in the process.Meanwhile, Lou Fa just wants to make her family proud, and Lenalee leaves her tribe under mitigating circumstances only to wander into Shapeshifter territory and meet a certain ponytailed Shapeshifter…





	1. Allen > Get Sucked into a Spatial Rift and Rocketed Off to Canada

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all! 
> 
> This is a new fic of mine that I’m particularly excited about. My brother and I have been talking world building for a few weeks for this fic, so I’m really excited to share it with you!
> 
> If you like supernatural AUs that don’t have alpha/beta/omega dynamics, have a lot of cultural world building, angst, magic, conflict, action, friendship and politics, this story’s for you.
> 
> It will have a lot of POV switching, so I hope you’re excited about that.
> 
> The Mature tag is mostly for language, violence, partial to full nudity, (it's like, there, but not described in any way, shape, or form, so it's all left up for your own interpretation), and some heavy stuff that's mentioned later on in the fic. (Nothing too bad, but you've been warned).
> 
> Trigger Warnings for: Space, (subtle) discrimination, and partial but non-descriptive nudity(it's like, there, but again, not described at all). Please tell me if I missed anything!
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Allen Walker climbs up the outside stairwell to his crummy apartment in Manchester, the wooden stairs creaking underneath his feet. The wind cuts right through his worn jacket, a leaf from a nearby tree fluttering past to land on the step below. The leaves have fallen early this year. It makes Allen certain that winter won’t be far behind. It’s past dark out, but Allen doesn’t mind. The extra hours at work give him more money, and help him to sleep as well. He unlocks the door and closes it gently, because it tends to stick otherwise. He bends over to pick up the mail, sighing as he sorts through the bills.

He walks into the apartment, a smile blooming on his face as he greets his friend. “Hey, Timcanpy.” Tim chirrups, flapping his wings a bit and hopping up onto Allen’s worn desk. Allen smiles, walking over and stroking his fur. Tim butts his head against Allen’s hand, and Allen scratches the dragoncat behind the ears and at the base of his horns, running his hand down his spine while being careful of his wings. Timcanpy yawns, showing off an impressive display of teeth, and then folds his wings and curls up on Allen’s desk, basking in the sunlight from the nearby window. Shaking his head in amusement, Allen goes to get Tim something to eat, biting his lip when he shakes the bag of cat food and finds it mostly empty. Allen checks his wallet, and is surprised when moths don’t fly out. He sighs, looking down at the bag of cat food guiltily. He has about fifty dollars left on his credit card, that’ll have to be enough.

_It’ll have to be._ Neah says. _We can’t just not feed Timcanpy._

_Right._ Allen agrees.

“I’m going out, Tim!” Allen calls, and Tim hisses a sleepy agreement.

* * *

Allen walks home in the dark, his mind a bit fuzzy. He blinks, his thoughts coming back together. MV Pets had been closed, he remembers. He sighs. He’ll have to feed Tim with what he has. He slings the shoulder bag he’d brought higher on his shoulder. He has a vague memory of grabbing it and shucking some books and his lucky leopardskin in before he went out the door. He eyes his surroundings warily, because this part of the neighborhood has never been too friendly.

“Hey, you!” A male voice says, and Allen turns with dread to see a dark haired man who frequented one of the bars Allen used to gamble at stride over with two other people at his back. “Give me back my money, punk.” He growls.

_Well, time to make a break for it._ Neah suggests.

_I couldn’t agree more._ Allen snarks.

So Allen turns on his heel and runs. 

“Hey, get back here!”

Allen sprints through the alleyways with the three men in hot pursuit behind him. His heart pounds hard and fast in his chest as he races through the darkness, ducking into back alleyways and twisting back roads that he’s used for years. His pursuers yell angry threats at his back, yet despite being nightowls, Allen can see in the dark better than they can. That’s why, when he rounds a corner and sees a crack between two buildings that he could probably barely fit through, he takes a chance and wriggles through. He comes out on the other side covered in grime, surprised that the space is fairly large.

He peers through the crack, his heart rabbiting in his chest. “He went over there!” Someone shouts, and his pursuers pound past him. 

_I think we lost them._ Neah says with relief.

Allen sighs, leaning up against the back wall in relief. And then he yelps in surprise as he’s abruptly yanked backwards, through the wall and into darkness. He shivers, wrapping his arms around himself. It’s freezing. He tries to move but finds himself suspended in the air. He can’t breathe, because there’s no oxygen in whatever this space is. Stars spread out around him in the vast endless void, twinkling with an odd blue light. Except one star is coming inexorably closer. But wait, it’s not a star, it’s another opening–and then he goes sprawling out on the other side as he takes huge gulps of air, landing right at someone's feet.

* * *

Lavi Fireheart can’t say that he isn’t conflicted about his life. He has three online friends, two of which are shapeshifters and one of which is a human with absolutely no knowledge of the tribes or anything surrounding Lavi’s life whatsoever. And that is partly good. It means Lavi can sit back and relax from normal life with his tribe and pretend to be human. Pretend to have an uncomplicated life. But Lavi is an Archivist. He’s meant to record historical events surrounding the tribes, and that means he can’t just shut the world away. 

So it is that he’s waiting, arms crossed with his feet tapping restlessly, for the Witches to come drop off Timothy. There’s always that fear, lingering in his gut, that this time, they won’t bring him back.

And that’s when the rift to the right of him screeches across his senses, spitting out a sprawl of arms and legs at his feet. The scent of Selkie hits Lavi’s nose, and he grins, stepping back and leaning down to offer his tribesman a hand.

Allen Walker stares back up at him with wide blue eyes.

“G-gaah!” Lavi says intelligently, leaping backwards with his hands up in the air.

_“Lavi?”_ Allen asks incredulously. “What-what are you _wearing?”_

Lavi clears his throat awkwardly. He knows that for the average human, wearing nothing but an animal skin around your waist would be a bit… strange. Not to mention the tattoos. Those probably raise some questions on their own.

The hairs on the back of Lavi’s neck stand on end as the familiar scent of magic fills the air. _Shit. They’re here._

Lavi steps forward and pulls a distinctly weirded out Allen to his feet and starts pushing him back in the direction he came. “Look, this really isn’t the best time right now. I promise I’ll explain everything later, just as soon as you go back through that rift-” Lavi has just enough time to see the rift pulse with a blue glow before the rip in space knits itself back together as if it had never been there. Dammit! Normally Lavi would be ecstatic to see something as rare as that, but now he has no idea when the rift will open back up again, if at all.

Allen twists his neck back around to look at him, brows furrowed. “You know what that was?”

There’s a sudden flash of light, and Lavi turns Allen around so he’s facing forward, quickly stepping in front of him, whispering in a tone only a fellow Selkie could hear, “play along. I’ll explain everything later.”

Fou and Marie stand a bit a ways away from them, Timothy standing in front of them. While Lavi appreciates that the Sects sent Witches that he was on good terms with, he can’t help the shiver that goes over him at the stench of magic that fills the air.

Immediately, Fou lifts an eyebrow upon sight of Allen. “Wasn’t it supposed to be just you?”

Lavi laughs, rubbing the back of his head. “He just came back through the rift. You got here before I could get him to leave.”

Lavi could smell Allen’s and Timothy’s confusion. The blue haired boy fixes his eyes on him and tilts his head. Lavi dips his head minutely. Timothy relaxes. Of course Timothy would be concerned. He doesn’t recognize Allen. But Lavi has the feeling, if he has any say in it, that Timothy will be getting to know Allen really soon.

* * *

Allen is so confused.

First he finds his online friend Lavi wearing nothing but an animal skin around his waist. Not to mention the tattoo. On his back there is a bear made entirely of red and orange flames, who stares out at the viewer with an almost contemplative expression on his face. Flames flicker around him, and there lay a book in front of him opened to a random page. On the bear's breast lay a bare patch of skin shaped like a heart.

Allen hadn’t taken Lavi for the streaker type, except that doesn’t seem to be what this is at all. Wherever he landed out of that… rift, is clearly so far from civilization that it might as well be in the middle of nowhere. Whatever is happening, it’s obviously something that’s on the down-low for the rest of society. Is Lavi part of a cult? Oh please don’t let Lavi be part of a cult.

And it’s not as though Allen isn’t excited to finally meet Lavi in person; it’s just that all of this is just a bit shocking.

And now Lavi’s dragged Allen into something that looks oddly like a prisoner transfer, if the prisoner was a ten year old boy and not a criminal, and Allen has a perfect right to be mad about that.

_For the love of God, focus Allen._ Neah bemoans.

_Alright, jeez._ Allen says, annoyed.

Allen turns his attention back to the conversation, only to find it’s moved on without him.

“You’re just lucky it was us who brought him here and not a hardass like Tui.” The orange haired woman with green eyes says, picking her ear for ear wax idly with one pinky. Luckily, she and her partner in crime are fully clothed, even if their clothes are oddly formal.

The man with deep brown skin a shade darker than Allen’s own wearing dreadlocks in a high ponytail says with a kind smile, “I’m just glad everything worked out okay in the end.”

Allen’s nose tingles, and he resists the urge to sneeze. The woman’s arm suddenly morphs with a flash of light, broadening and thickening into a large, board-like shape. Allen blinks, squinting. He can’t possibly have just saw what he thinks he just saw. But Lavi has stiffened up beside him, his green eyes fixed on the woman. And Allen… he’s always known that there was the supernatural in the world. From Timcanpy, to the scar on his left eye and the markings on his arm, and even the books in Cross’s library.

The woman reaches down with her morphed arm, and Lavi tenses. Allen can almost hear his heartbeat ramp up in fear. But the woman merely ruffles the blue haired boy’s hair, a fond look on her face.

The boy throws up his hands against the onslaught, making a disgusted face. “Augh! Fou, quit it!”

Fou lifts her arm up with a smirk as the blue haired boy pouts up at her. With another flash of light and more tingling up Allen’s nose that almost makes him sneeze, her arm morphs back to normal. “Be good, brat.” She says, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

The child laughs, then turns and hugs the other part of their trio. He smiles, ruffling the boys hair, much to his disgruntlement. “Stay safe, Timothy.”

Timothy throws one last smile towards the two, a smile that seems almost sad, and then starts walking in a slow and even pace towards them. Tension fills the air as Timothy passes between some invisible line that Allen can’t see as he crosses over to them. You could hear a pin drop for the silence except for the slow crunch of Timothy’s feet on the grass. He can see Fou watching both of them with hard eyes, and while the other man isn’t watching, exactly, he’s paying attention to them keenly, head cocked. As he looks into his eyes Allen realizes that he might actually be blind.

When Timothy walks up to them, the tension in the air dissipates somewhat and everyone lets out a breath of relief. Fou is still looking at them with a challenge in her eyes, and the man with colorless eyes to rival Timcanpy’s looks cautious yet hopeful. 

“Bring him back safe,” Fou says. The implied _or else_ goes unsaid, and Fou and her partner grip a strange glass orb that glows with an inner light. With a flash of light and a gust of wind, they disappear.

* * *

Timothy was not one to like surprises.

There were several prevalent reasons for this, the foremost being that his life had been chock full of all kinds of unpleasant ones. So when some white haired stranger comes along with Lavi to the meet up point, Timothy isn’t exactly thrilled. He’s obviously a Selkie; anyone who can use their nose would be able to tell that much. What Timothy doesn’t understand is why he wasn’t part of the tribe in the first place. It’s awfully suspicious if you ask him.

So, of course, the first thing Timothy says, while pointing at the stranger, is, “who’s he?” And no, he did not in any way sound rude or sulky. He’s being _mature_ , dammit.

Lavi blinks and then grins, leaning back with his arms laced casually behind his head. “Oh, him! He’s a new tribe member that I found living all the way out in the UK. It hasn’t really been finalized yet, ‘cuz I literally _just_ found him, but I’m hoping you and the others will accept him just as much as I have.” Lavi gives him a pointed stare, but Timothy just crosses his arms and huffs, turning away. He didn’t have to listen to Lavi if he didn’t want to. Being Blood Brothers doesn’t change that.

The white haired stranger shoots Lavi an annoyed glance, then steps forward with hand outstretched. “My name’s Allen Walker.” He says with a polite smile.

Timothy bows with both of his hands pressed together in front of him, as is the way of the Witches. “Timothy Lion.”

‘Allen Walker’ blinks, then smiles. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Timothy doesn’t return the sentiment. After an awkward silence, the human raised Selkie slowly lowers his hand. Timothy knows what a handshake is, of course, but he’s not about to initiate some stupid human custom if he doesn’t have to.

‘Allen’ clears his throat awkwardly. “So… magic?” He asks curiously, with a slight hesitancy, as if afraid he’ll get drawn and quartered for speaking the word aloud but can’t help mentioning it anyway.

“No duh,” Timothy snorts. “Where have you been living, under a rock?” Well, he supposes the human world equates to the same thing. But seriously, he’s a _Selkie_ , how can he not know about magic?

The white haired man rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, I knew magic existed, but I’d never exactly seen it in action before today.” Timothy frowns as his eyes narrow, examining the man closely. His white hair is neck length, with bangs that have three parts and are oddly fluffy looking, just like the rest of his hair. His deep brown skin contrasts starkly with his storm blue eyes, a blood red scar that cuts through the whole left side of his face and angles sharply across his cheek making him look kind of badass. Timothy immediately squashes the thought and starts looking for imperfections. His eyes land on his gloves. Who the hell wears gloves anymore? Well, except for some particularly uptight Witches. But he’s not a Witch. He doesn’t smell like magic at all.

Seriously, what a weirdo.

Lavi places his hand on his chin thoughtfully. “I guess that would be pretty obvious, wouldn’t it?”

Allen nods with a bemused smile. “A bit.” He frowns. “So what was that thing that we went through?”

Lavi tilts his head at Allen, confused for some reason Timothy can’t fathom. Timothy wants to snort, because there’s no way a human raised Selkie would understand silent communication. But Allen simply raises an eyebrow, giving him a significant look. Lavi blinks, and then grins, giving him a thumbs up.

Timothy is still puzzling over the silent exchange when Lavi claps Allen on the shoulder with a grin. “Oh, that was just a rift. They’re ley lines that we use to travel from place to place. It’s almost unheard of to see one close up like that.”

Timothy blinks and looks to his right. True to Lavi’s words, the rift that lead to the human world is gone. Timothy is sort of glad to see it go. It gives him the creeps.

Allen blinks, looking thoughtful. “Oh, I see. Is there an estimated time for when it will reappear?”

Lavi scratches the back of his head. “Well, not really?” He frowns. “I mean, the ley lines are packed with power, I’m not gonna lie. But no one knows who ripped a hole through them in the first place, except the theories that maybe a Witch did it.” Lavi shrugs, and Timothy feels suddenly a bit uncomfortable. Those rumors were not unfounded, according to the Witches. But Timothy couldn’t tell Lavi that. Just like he couldn’t tell the Witches anything about the Selkie’s customs.

It was stupid and it made Timothy feel like he was being pulled in two different directions, never allowed to make his own decisions or choose his own path.

Being born a Witch and a Selkie was a veritable shitstorm to deal with. But that shitstorm was his life, and Timothy just had to deal.

* * *

Lavi resists the urge to sigh. Timothy's and Allen's meeting could have gone better, but beggars can't be choosers. Now he had to somehow break the news to Allen that he wasn't human while somehow not alerting Timothy that he hadn't yet done so. 

A burst of inspiration hits Lavi, and he scratches the side of his head, touching his dangling earring in the process. Only, it isn't _just_ an earring.

Immediately, a chat window pops up in his mind's eye of a recent conversation between him and Kanda. Lavi exits out with a thought, scrolling through his contacts list. Outside his head, he splits his focus between his mental pathways and the outside world, smiling casually as he asks Timothy how things were over with his other tribe. 

Well, technically the Witches classify themselves as a Coven, but it's not like Lavi cares. 

Timothy immediately brightens, and starts talking rapidly with a huge smile on his face. Lavi listens with half an ear but mostly tunes him out. Timothy had learned, fast and early, how to give details about his life at the Coven without giving any useful information about how magic worked or the inner workings of the Coven.

It would be impressive if it weren't so frustrating, because magic is, frankly, terrifying to anyone with any amount of sense, and the witches guard the secrets of their art religiously.

But at least he knows their own secrets are being just as heavily guarded.

Choosing the name _beansprout :D_ on his contact list, Lavi sends his first message.

**Lavily: Al, there's something I have to tell you.**

Allen, who had been listening to Timothy with interest, jumps as a buzz goes off in his pocket. He looks down, clearly confused about his phone's activity in a place where there should be no reception. Taking out his phone, he inputs his password and then stares from his phone to Lavi in bewilderment.

**beanysprout changed name to *The_Walker***

**The_Walker: stop changing that. >:/**

**The_Walker: how r u doing this?**

Lavi nods and makes appropriate comments at the right places during Timothy's word vomit, feeling a bit guilty that he's not actually listening.

**Lavily: an invention of the Selkies. >;3**

**The_Walker: selkies??**

Lavi braces himself. There's no going back from this. Time to rip off the bandaid.

**Lavily: yeah. it's what I am and also happens 2 be what u are.**

He sees Allen's fingers still for a second as his face goes completely blank. He starts typing again a second later.

**The_Walker: I'm sorry?**

Lavi sighs inwardly. Sometimes he wishes he and Allen weren’t so alike in this particular way.

**Lavily: ur a Selkie, Allen.**

**The_Walker: oh. I see.**

Lavi frowns inwardly. What does _that_ mean?

**Lavily: Al? r u okay?**

**The_Walker: don’t worry, I'm fine. I guess I always knew there was… something. it’s nice 2 know I wasn’t just imagining things.**

**The_Walker: what r they like?**

Lavi blinks. He suddenly feels a little nervous about how everyone will react to Allen’s presence. What if they see him as an outsider, like Timothy does? Well, he’ll just have to show them that he’s one of them in every way possible.

**Lavily: they're great! I can't wait for u 2 meet them!**

**The_Walker: me 2, I suppose. ^^**

Exiting out of the chat, Lavi puts his whole focus on Timothy. He seems to be winding down, so Lavi gives him enough time to finish before clapping his hands.

"Okay! So we need to be heading back to the tribe." He turns to Allen. "First things first: you need to disrobe."

Allen blinks, and then deadpans, _"what."_ A cool breeze blows through the air, disturbing the large forest of pine trees and making the grass crest like a tide. No goosebumps rose on Lavi’s skin, however.

Lavi splays out his hands helplessly. "The rest of the tribe will accept you better if you dress like us."

Allen crosses his arms over his chest. "That doesn’t mean I have to get naked just for their benefit." He says stubbornly.

Timothy scowls, glaring at Allen. Despite his disappointment, Lavi nudges him with a foot and shakes his head, knowing where his thoughts most likely went.

Lavi sighs, mussing up his hair. He looks Allen in the eye. “Look, you want to be accepted by them, don’t you? This is the way to do it.”

Allen glares at him for a moment, and then grumbles, "At least turn around."

Lavi sighs overdramatically but does as he's told. He has to grab Timothy by the shoulder and forcefully turn him around. Timothy shoots him a confused look, and Lavi mouths, _"humans,"_ with a shrug. Timothy nods in exasperated agreement.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to wear that?” Lavi asks for the third time.

Allen grits his teeth, resisting the urge to cross his arms uncomfortably over his chest, his binder and his rather lithe and muscular figure the only barrier to keep them from _finding out._ And Allen doesn’t want them to know, doesn’t want anyone to know. He’d rather stay in the closet forever than have people judge him for who he is.

“Yes, Lavi, I’m sure.” Allen grits out, trying to find his patience. 

When he had tied his animal skin to his waist, he had copied the style that Lavi and Timothy seemed to be wearing. Tying the leopardskin’s arms and legs to one side of his hip so that everything was completely covered, with only a slit at the hip. The problem with this was that that meant they could see his boxers.

Lavi shrugs. “It’s your funeral.” He grins. “Now, the fun part. Let’s put on our ‘skins and run back home.”

Allen frowns inwardly as something occurs to him that hadn’t before. He takes out his phone and types out a quick message to Lavi. He figures the reason he contacted him on his phone was because he didn’t want to alert Timothy to the things Allen didn’t already know.

**beany_the_beany_beansprout: aren’t**

**beany_the_beany_beansprout: *sigh***

**beany_the_beany_beansprout changed name to *The_Walker***

**The_Walker: aren’t all selkies supposed to be seals?**

**Lavily: that's only a legend. real Selkies can use any ‘skin that they've bonded with. some are even passed down through generation upon generation.**

**The_Walker: so how do we know i’ve ‘bonded’ with mine?**

**Lavily: I guess we’ll find out.**

Allen scoffs. Real reassuring, Lavi. Real reassuring. Putting his phone away, he has just enough time to see Timothy give him the stink eye. Allen stifles a sigh. He’s not sure what he did to offend the kid so much, and he kind of wishes he knew. He’s not quite sure what he thinks about this whole situation yet. But part of him, the part that isn’t worried sick about Timcanpy, is interested in where this new road is leading him.

If nothing else it sounds like fun. 

“So how does this work?” Allen asks. Timothy snorts derisively, unties his ‘skin from around his waist, and then pulls it around himself. Allen’s not sure how to describe what happens next. It’s like putting on a cloak, if a cloak were to shift and change your appearance. Timothy lands on all four paws, the lion cub casting him a superior glance.

“Just like that,” Lavi says with a proud grin, ruffling Timothy’s ears fondly. Timothy shakes him off and shoots him an annoyed look, until Lavi strokes a hand down his back. Timothy gives a pleased chuff, leaning into Lavi as he scratches him behind the ears.

Lavi turns to Allen. “You go next. I want to be in human form in case there are any complications.” 

“‘Complications?’” Allen asks, seeing the way Timothy’s ears are pinned to his skull. Even seeing Timothy transform, it’s still a bit hard to believe that Allen will be doing the same.

Lavi rubs the back of his head, looking away. “You don’t need to worry about those. I’ll handle it if anything goes wrong.”

Allen narrows his eyes at him. “...Alright. Is there anything special that I need to be doing while I’m… transforming?” Allen asks, the word feeling odd and foreign on his tongue.

Lavi laughs. “Just put it on, man.”

Allen tugs on his hair nervously. Swallowing with a dry throat, he unties his leopardskin from around his waist and pulls it over himself, landing on all four feet. Everything is suddenly so confusing, outside stimuli jumbled up and confused inside his mind. He can hear Lavi’s and Timothy’s heartbeats, smell the scent of rabbit and deer that makes his stomach growl, hear the swish of the grass and the whispering of the trees in the wind, his fur sheltering him from the cool breeze that heralds the beginning of winter. 

After a moment, everything settles. He looks around with his new eyes, his ears perked and his–dear lord, that was a tail, wasn't it?–tail swishing through the air. Timothy is doing his own little victory dance, prancing around Allen with his tail held high, while Lavi grins ecstatically.

Lavi steps forward and runs a hand through Allen’s fur, frowning thoughtfully. “I know you thought that this was a leopardskin, but I don’t think that’s the case. Your fur is a sort of blue-ish grey with some white on the belly, and it’s more brindled than spotted. And your tail looks weird, hold on, lemme see-” Allen distinctly does not like the feeling of someone grabbing hold of his tail, and he expresses this feeling by lashing it directly into Lavi’s side. He doesn’t expect to hear Lavi falling to the ground with a pained grunt.

Immediately Allen turns around, or tries to. But there's something wrong about his center of balance, and his forelegs end up skidding out from underneath him while he falls on his rump. He ends up crawling clumsily into a turn to get a look at Lavi, standing once he's close enough to nudge at him worriedly, checking for injuries. Timothy is at his side as well, for once not mad at Allen, though he seems a bit amused. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Lavi says with a laugh, fending them off with both hands. He grins. “That’s some tail you’ve got there, Al. Fur hangs off from it, so it mostly hides it, but it’s abnormally large in length and width, like an eel except wider. I bet you could hit pretty hard with it if you tried.”

Allen flicks his tail, suddenly contemplative.

Lavi places a hand on his chin thoughtfully. “I think there was something about this in the Archives…” He blinks, then smiles. “Oh, well. Something for a later date. Now come on, let’s go!”

With that, Lavi pulls on his 'skin and shifts and changes, until a bear with a cream body and cinnamon brown legs stands and huffs at Allen. Huh. Is that some sort of color mutation like the blue bear? Allen will have to ask Lavi later. For now, as Timothy runs and Lavi walks at a trot, Allen stumbles on his own four paws, struggling to keep up with them. He has to concentrate on his surroundings and occasionally look down at his paws, trying to figure out how they’re supposed to move differently from human feet. His balance is off by a wide margin and he can’t count the number of times he stumbles and falls. 

They stop for a second, as Lavi turns his green eyes on him to look at him consideringly. He grunts at Allen in concern and then turns and poses, giving a throaty grunt of encouragement. Allen tries to match the pose, and takes a step only to stumble. He wants to scream in frustration. It comes out as a hissing growl instead. Lavi turns toward him with a grunt of concern and carefully looks over his posture. Timothy sits down digs his claws into the turf with an irritable growl.

Lavi ambles over and nudges Allen’s hindquarters with his snout, giving a pointed grunt. Allen turns his head, and realizes just how much weight he’s trying to put on his hind legs. Big cats don’t walk like that. He straightens, putting equal weight on all four paws. He immediately feels a sense of wrongness, an uneasiness curdling in his gut. His pelt stands on end and his claws dig into the turf, he’s leaning back on his hind legs again before he knows it, feeling immediately calmer.

Lavi clicks his teeth in mounting concern, pushing at his hindquarters again. Allen reluctantly straightens, his eyes dilated as they take in more light. He stumbles less, but his center of balance still feels off, like it’s something new and foreign. So he stumbles less, but not by much. Lavi tries to get him to lean against his shoulder, but Allen refuses.

He can walk on his own.

They wind their way through the trees, the tall pine trees looming overhead as the bracing wind cards invisible fingers through his fur, the grass soft and lush underneath Allen’s stumbling paws. Birds call overhead, and a rabbit is startled out of the brush by their passing, running by them in leaps and bounds. Lavi has to discourage both Allen and Timothy from going after it, and succeeds, much to Allen’s disappointment. (He probably wouldn’t have been able to catch it, anyway. Well, probably).

They finally come across a cave wall covered with ivy. However Lavi pushes through the ivy, showing him the cave entrance. They enter, the ivy trailing along Allen’s back, and descend down and down, the darkness only excluded because of Allen’s keen nightvision. He’s always been able to see rather well in the dark, now that he thinks about it. He had just assumed that it had been a result of Cross’s training.

But Allen had always known there was… something. Like a feeling of dread, it had hung over him, this instinctive knowledge that he was somehow different. Somehow abnormal. 

So it wasn’t really a relief so much as not a surprise.

Soon they reach their destination: a cave illuminated with orbs of light floating above them, and inside the cave, another of those dreadful rifts floating in the air. It screeches across his senses, and Allen backs away, tail lashing uneasily. Lavi nudges him reassuringly, Allen looking back to see with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Timothy had already gone through. If Timothy had gone, then he had no choice. He steps through the rift with Lavi at his side. The ride is much shorter this time, and less cold because of Allen’s fur coat.

Allen stumbles out on the other side, glad of the solid earth beneath his feet. He takes deep breaths of the clean, fresh air, looking around. They’re in a deciduous forest, the cool wind blowing through the trees and ruffling Allen’s fur. Above them two grassy green masas loom, surrounding them from both sides. Are they in a valley?

Lavi nudges him to get him moving, and it’s not too long before he can hear the faint sound of voices. As they break through the trees, Allen has to stop to take everything in. In the middle of the valley is a winding river, the river sparkling in the late morning sun. On either side of the river are houses made out of all kinds of different materials, each one different from the last. They’re all a variety of colors, and no two houses look the same. There’s a house that’s pink and shaped like a flower, a house made out of metal that’s like a giant pocket watch, a house that’s shaped and colored like a black and white soccer ball made entirely out of marble. It all screams creativity.

Allen’s stomach twists at the thought.

With Lavi nudging him forward, Allen continues on and is lead by Lavi and Timothy into the city. Walking/and/or stumbling down the cobbled stone road with the wooden houses passing them by, the faint sound of voices becomes more distinct. They're easy enough to reach, coming across a bustling market square, with all sorts of things being traded and bartered for another. Magic shivers over Allen’s pelt, causing the hair to raise along his spine. He’s not quite sure how he knows it’s magic, he just _knows._ This place, this city, is filled with magic.

As they walk around, Allen can’t help but notice what people are wearing. Or rather, the _lack_ of what people are wearing. Even the women only wear the ‘skins around their waists, and while that’s not exactly distracting for Allen considering his sexuality, it is quite a shock. No wonder Lavi had wanted him to take literally _everything_ off. Allen doesn’t consider himself to be a prude but he can’t help feeling a bit scandalized.* He also notices out of the corner of his eye that while some people are tattooed, other’s skin are completely bare of any kind of ink. It’s usually the younger ones, teenagers or kids like Timothy. 

Other Selkies wearing their ‘skins move through the crowd with ease, getting admiring hands running through their pelts or a fond scratch behind the ears from what must be complete strangers. Some people try to do the same with Allen only for him to flinch away, frustrated and confused, and quickly move away.

Allen’s left foreleg gives a pulse of pain, and he stumbles again before catching himself. The red interlocking runes burn like a thousand tiny branding irons against his skin. The pain moves up his foreleg and into his chest, where he gets a sharp pang of pain every time he breathes. He grits his teeth. He refuses to let himself limp. It’s like agony to put pressure on his left forepaw, but he manages. Thunder rumbles overhead, a promise of rain to come.

Finally, they move to a stand selling fruits and vegetables. There’s a man a little up in years with frizzy grey hair and a warm smile. Lavi and Timothy shuck off their ‘skins, retying them around their waists. Allen tries to do the same, pawing at his chest, only to find himself trapped in animal form. Is this the effect of his curse?

_“Just put it on, man.”_

_‘Just put it on, man,’ my arse!_ Allen thinks, baring his teeth angrily. He sits down with a huff, curling his tail around his paws as he waits for Lavi to be done with whatever plan he’s cooked up to give him a piece of his mind. Somehow. It was hard to concentrate with the pain running like liquid fire through his veins. 

Lavi bows to the man with a hand fisted over his heart, Timothy doing the same. “Badgerheart.” Lavi says with grave respect in his voice.

The frizzy haired man gives them a gently chiding look, amusement writ in his features. “Now how many times have I told you, Lavi, that I am a simple tribes member like any other? I do not deserve nor wish to be treated as if I am somehow above everyone else. We decide things as one, not with one.”

Lavi looks at him with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Just checking that all that esteem didn’t go to your head while I was gone.”

Timothy laughs.

Allen tilts his head. _This man has some influence, then?_

The grey haired man smiles gently with an amused tilt to his mouth. Allen lets out a relieved sigh as his pains leave off to a dull ache. The man’s eyes suddenly land on Allen, and his expression turns thoughtful.

“And who is this?” He asks with a soft smile.

Lavi grins. “This is Allen. He’s from the human world. I sort of wanted to get you in charge of inducting him and all that jazz.”

The man grins. “I see. Step forward, there’s no need to be shy.” This last part directed at Allen.

Allen steps forward on clumsy paws so that he’s standing next to Lavi, shooting him an annoyed look with a grumbling growl in the back of his throat.

Lavi blinks and then looks chagrined. “Oh. Sorry, Al. I completely forgot to tell him how to change back.” Lavi explains to the confused grey haired man.

The man nods with an amused smile. “Ah, I see. Well, Allen, simply focus on the form you want to become and then will it to happen. Then it’s as simple as taking off the skin in the first place.”

Allen cocks his head, and then does as he is told. Focusing on his human form, from his fingers and toes to the hair on his head, he wills it into being. And then he shucks off his ‘skin and stands on two feet, staring down at it a bit incredulously. He quickly ties it around his waist and clears his throat, saying, “hello, sir.”

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to bow or not. For now he settled for dipping his head in the man’s direction.

A smile spreads across the man’s face. “Please, call me Tiedoll. It’s what everyone calls me around here.”

Allen smiles politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tiedoll.”

Tiedoll smiles. “The pleasure’s all mine, I can assure you.” He turns back to Lavi. “And about that induction…”

* * *

Allen is sitting curled up in Lavi's favorite fabric chair when Lavi walks in. Lavi wonders if he picked it because it smelled like him. Granted, Lavi's whole house smells like him, so finding a place to wait out the anxiety while everyone prepared for the ceremony couldn't have been too hard if that was what he was going for.

(“Lavi, why is your house shaped like a penis?” Allen asked dubiously.

“Not you too, Al!” Lavi bemoaned. “For the last time, it’s a _broken hammer!”_

Allen looked at him dubiously.

“Can’t you understand a piece of abstract art when you see it?”)

He's not wearing his boxers anymore, which must have been some sort of compromise in his mind but which really just set him apart more because he refused to give up one human article of clothing.

Lavi gets it. He really did.

There had been hints of it in Allen's interest in trans and gay rights, but what really clued him in was, well… seeing his animal form. You couldn't exactly hide that.

He hadn't said anything, because it hadn't been relevant. But, well, now it was.

Sitting down across from him on his old beat up lounge plank, the red fabric supporting his weight as it hung from the ceiling, with comfortable cushions sewn into the fabric. Lavi meets Allen’s cautious gaze and decides to start out slow.

“So are you going to take that off now or…?” He trails off with a raised eyebrow.

Lavi can smell Allen’s frustration and anger as he grits his teeth. But there’s a little fear there, hidden behind the anger, and it makes Lavi sad. “How many times do I have to say no, Lavi?” He snaps angrily.

Lavi raises both eyebrows, unperturbed. “What’s hidden under there that’s got you so scared? Voldemort’s face? Scars? Tentacles? Breasts?”

Allen stiffens, and Lavi can smell his alarm. His _fear_. It makes him feel guilty, so he figures he should just get to the point.

Lavi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t get why you weren’t okay with telling me about this, Al. I mean, Alma’s _agender_ , did you really think that I wouldn’t be okay with it?”

Allen shrugs, smiling sadly. “I’m not sure. It just felt different, that’s all.”

Lavi nods. Getting off of the fabric couch, he crawls into the chair with Allen, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I can understand that.” Lavi says, making himself comfortable. Lavi pauses, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. An idea comes to him, and he grins. Kanda and Alma are going to kill him, but if it works… 

Everything might just go off without a hitch.

“You know Kanda and Alma?” Lavi asks Allen. 

Allen squints at Lavi’s arm around his shoulders, as if trying to divine its purpose. Oh. Right. Lavi often forgets that humans aren’t nearly so casual with touch as Selkies are. Lavi grins inwardly. This could be fun. “Yeah?” Allen asks with confusion in his voice.

“They’re Shapeshifters.”

Allen gapes at Lavi. He takes a moment to get a hold of himself, and asks, “So there are Selkies, Shapeshifters, and…?”

“Witches.” Lavi says, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “Or those are the main ones.” Lavi grins at Allen. “Anyway, if you were scandalized by what Selkies wear, you’ll never guess what Shapeshifters wear. Or rather, _don’t_ wear.”

Allen crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow. “Your point?”

“My point is that wearing that,” Lavi gestures towards Allen’s binder, “doesn’t have to define who you are. You can still be you with or without it.” When Allen looks unsure, Lavi says, “just think about it, okay?”

Lavi claps Allen on the shoulder and heads out to help with the preparations.

* * *

Allen’s not at all sure about this.

His chest is unbound with absolutely nothing to hide it, and he feels exposed, yet oddly free. He had been undecided for awhile, but if Alma could do it, why couldn’t he? That had been what had decided it for him.

That doesn’t mean that he’s at all confident that he’ll be able to look anyone in the eye or feel an ounce of anything but misery with so many people’s eyes on him. He doesn’t know, but he hopes that for once, everything turns out okay.

Allen’s joints ache as thunder rumbles overhead, rain pounding down in sheets. He exits Lavi’s house when he hears a drumbeat begin to pick up over the sound of the rain; that’s his cue. The pouring rain pounds down on his bare shoulders, the rain oddly warm for mid-fall. Suffice to say, he’s drenched by the time he makes his way towards the forest. Despite the rain, delicious smells are carried toward him on the wind, and he quickens his pace.

The sight that greets Allen when he gets there is a surprising one. Naked drummers covered in tattoos are sitting down on the ground lined up in two uniform lines that stretch out with a space in the middle. Before each drummer is a torch about waist height lit with white fire like lights on a runway. It’s only then that Allen notices that there is no rain inside the walkway. Looking further, he sees at the end of the walkway Teidoll stands with a ceramic bowl in hand. Behind him are a lot of people Allen doesn’t recognize, other than Lavi. Wooden tables laden with food and drink stand behind them, and Allen’s mouth waters; he hasn’t eaten all day. Taller torches surround the whole gathering, lighting everything with a flickering white luminescence. 

Allen steps up to the walkway and the drumming takes up a furious tempo. He begins walking and holds his head up proudly, just as Lavi told him to do. The rain patters against the barrier above Allen’s head, and Allen’s ‘skin immediately sloughs off the water and becomes dry once more. Huh. Well that would explain how it survived the Laundry Incident. As he passes a certain drummer Allen recognizes a familiar face. Alma isn’t wearing a binder, just as Lavi said. They’re also not wearing anything else either. He catches Alma’s eye, and they smile at him exuberantly, though they don’t seem surprised. Allen’s blaming Lavi for that one. Allen nods in their direction, and then passes them by. 

He faces forward again to find Lavi’s eyes on him. His steps falter. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Or rather, it does, but on a slightly smaller scale. But Lavi… his opinion matters. And he’s never seen Allen like _this_ before. 

But Lavi shoots Allen a grin and a thumbs up, and something in Allen’s chest eases. His stride widens, becoming more confident. The beat of the drums pounds in his ears, his chest thrumming and his heart pumping with the charged energy in the air. He stops in front of Tiedoll just as the drumbeats fall into a crescendo before coming to a halt all at once.

In the sudden silence Tiedoll looks down at him and Allen gulps. “Allen, today is a very special day indeed. Today you will be inducted into our tribe. Do you accept this?” Tiedoll asks kindly.

Allen takes a deep breath.

_Well, at least it's better than staying home._

_If only Timcanpy were here..._

He meets Tiedoll’s eyes with a smile. “I do.”

Tiedoll smiles warmly. The sensation of something warm and protective wrapping around him gives Allen pause, but he doesn’t have much time to ruminate on it as Tiedoll reaches two fingers into the bowl, his fingers coming out covered in a red paste. As he pushes back Allen’s bangs, keeping them in place with a hairpin, he draws what feels like a squiggly line on Allen’s forehead. “I name you, Allen Brook!”

The Selkies begin to cheer, but Allen interrupts, “Walker,” he says. “Allen Brook Walker.”

Tiedoll nods. “Very well, then. Allen Brook Walker!” The Selkies whoop and cheer, and Allen feels that warm protectiveness sink into his skin. He’s only just realizing now that it’s magic. _Selkie_ magic.

“Let us celebrate!” Tiedoll announces, and the Selkie burst into acclaim. Someone starts up a tune, and soon people are dancing while others go to the food tables. Talk and laughter rings in Allen’s ears, and for the first real time since the celebration had started, Allen smiles.

* * *

Miranda Dovewind is nervous. 

She really wants to meet the new tribe member, but she also really doesn’t want to bother them, especially since it seems like a lot of people are going up to them and making them uncomfortable somehow. What if all she does is make it worse?! But-but if she doesn’t try to help, that’s not making it any better, either, is it?

She’s so lost in thought that she’s not watching where she’s going and bumps into someone. Her eyes snap up and meet white hair and blue eyes. “I-I’m s-sorry!” Miranda yelps, covering her face with her hands. “I was trying to make it better but I only made it _WORSE!”_ She berates herself, sobbing.

Two warm hands land on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Miranda blinks and sniffles, looking up into the kind blue eyes of the person before her. “R-really?” But she’s done so much wrong, and it basically made her a social pariah because of it.

Allen nods with a smile. “Really.”

Miranda leaps up and pulls them into a hug. _“Thaaank yooou!”_ She sobs. 

Allen pats her back awkwardly throughout the whole exchange.

* * *

The celebrations eventually wind down, and Allen ends up passed out in a relative food coma on Lavi’s hammock couch, running his fingers through Timothy’s blue fur before he falls asleep, Timothy curled up on Allen’s stomach.

After some expected strife between the Shapeshifters and the Selkies, the Shapeshifters return home with their payment in trade goods with Alma having no idea what’s in store for them when they get home.


	2. Kanda > Run Across a Suspicious Entity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all!
> 
> Sorry for the lack of updates. A combination of depression and ADD (a writer's worst nightmare), kept me from finishing the second chapter. But then I was like, "You know, me and my brother worked really hard on this one, I think it deserves more time than I've given it." So, viola, here's me, inspired for it again!
> 
> And with a doozy of a second chapter.
> 
> Trigger warnings for this one are a picture/video taken while partially nude (with permission, only up to shoulder height), full nudity, (again, not really described), suicide ideation, and self-harm mention/ideation.
> 
> If you can get through all of that, enjoy! ^^

**Jasper Forest: Late Evening**

Kanda Stormflight is patrolling the perimeter of their territory in wolf form, the night sounds of the forest soothing to his ears. He stalks on silent paws as his eyes search keenly for any sign of a threat, his nightvision cutting straight through the darkness. Kanda doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s bored to death. He’s been on patrol for fucking hours and nothing of any note has happened. But he needs to stay vigilant. He’s been trained from birth to be the ruthless warrior that he is today. He needs to be constantly alert, looking for signs of- 

_ Ping! _

Or he could alleviate this mindless boredom by checking his messages. Kanda is sorely tempted for just a moment, but in the end he decides to ignore it. That is until seven more notifications go off rapid fire on his communivice. That is.  _ it _ . Whoever the fuck is stupid enough to bother him while he’s out  _ patrolling _ , Kanda is going to give them a piece of his mind.

He brings up his recent messages into his mind’s eye, only to find a message from Alma and seven barely comprehensible ones from Lavi, one being a Mental Memory that Kanda does not feel like touching with a ten foot pole considering the likely drunkenness of when the memory had taken place. The idiot probably got into the mead again.

**Mayonnaise_Lover: allen looks surprisingly good in a furskin. i wasn’t expecting that. ;^^**

What the fuck?

**obsolete_swordsman: what the fuck?**

Looking over Lavi’s messages, Kanda soon finds his answer.

**Lavily: ookl ta htis eswet byo**

**Lavily: *swete ybo**

**Lavily: *weste yob**

**Lavily: lol**

**Lavily cna yuo imagnie Aelln sa a yob?**

**Lavily: e’hs so precoius.**

**Lavily:** **ABW ftw.mm**

Kanda growls softly to himself and enters the Mental Memory. It’s of the boy in question, with an arm that Kanda assumes to be Lavi’s wrapped around his shoulders and a grin on his face as he rolls his eyes at Lavi while he’s capturing the memory. Behind Allen hovers a hesitantly smiling woman with brown hair and brown eyes, and as the memory continues, Lavi focusing his gaze on shoulder height, Lavi says, “you can stay with me for the night, Al. I don’ mind.” Allen rolls his eyes and shrugs Lavi’s arm off of his shoulders. 

Kanda can’t help but notice the drawing on Allen’s forehead, the components that of basically a red berry paste. It’s a stream drawn with a careful hand, the water guided back and forth with gentle strokes as rocks lurked in the streambed. It was something almost disgustingly beautiful and creative for something that was only supposed to last one night.

Selkies laugh and dance in the background, the tantalizing smell of food in the air. Kanda can hear singing and music, the kind usually used in large gatherings for celebrations. What was going on over there?

“Thanks Lavi, I appreciate it.” Allen says with a smile.

“I-If that doesn’t w-work o-out, y-you could stay at mine?” The brown haired woman offers hesitantly, with her shoulders hunched.

Allen turns and smiles gently at her. “Really? Thank you, Miranda. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Miranda’s smile turns pleased, with an embarrassed flush on her face, as if unused to receiving praise. She squirms in place like an excited puppy, flustered yet happy. “O-Oh, it-it was nothing, really.” She demures, looking down at her feet.

Allen puts a deep brown hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t nothing to me.” He smiles at her. Miranda meets his eyes and hesitantly smiles back.

The memory ends.

**play again y/n?**

Fuck no.

The memory slips into his head, stored along with the rest of his memories. He’d say he can trust Lavi to not send him shit he shouldn’t store, but this is the rabbit he was talking about here. Opening back up his chat with Alma, he sees that they’ve replied.

**Mayonnaise_Lover: u mean lavi didn’t tell you? :?**

**obsolete_swordsman: fucking tell me** **_what?_ **

**Mayonnaise_Lover: umm…**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: well it turns out that allen is a selkie so he’s been inducted into their tribe**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: i think?**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: i don’t know 4 sure, i was just a drummer. they didn’t tell us a lot, all the information i got was from lavi beforehand. and u know how he is. >:/ **

**Mayonnaise_Lover: i was half expecting allen 2 not even be there.**

**obsolete_swordsman: well. fuck.**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: …yeah.**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: i just hope he’s happy, u know? but i also want us to continue to be friends, and i’m not sure 4 how long we can be.**

Kanda huffs, sitting down on the cool grass, eyes alert and ears pricked.

**obsolete_swordsman: what about the rabbit?**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: lavi’s different and u know it, kanda. he’s an archivist. none of the past grudges, none of the biases affect him, because he has 2 stay impartial.**

**obsolete_swordsman: and you really think that the beansprout won’t do the same just because he’s a selkie?**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: i’m not sure…**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: i hope not.**

**obsolete_swordsman: well i’ll tell you then because it’s fucking common sense.**

**obsolete_swordsman: of course he will, he’s the** **_beansprout_ ** **. that guy doesn’t just throw away friends.**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: …**

**Mayonaise_Lover: thanks, kanda.**

Kanda is interrupted from his chat with Alma by the sound of human footsteps.

**obsolete_swordsman: i have to go.**

**Mayonnaise_Lover: already?**

**obsolete_swordsman: i’m on patrol, idiot.**

Kanda exits the chat before Alma can think of a reply. The scent of magic fills the air, making Kanda’s hackles stand on end. He stands with his ears pricked, crouched and ready to pounce. They might have slightly better relations with Witches than they do with Selkies, but that doesn’t mean Kanda will just let one stomp around on their territory as they please.

But the Witch that stumbles into view gives him pause.

She has purple eyes that are red rimmed and swollen from tears, her chin length black hair unkempt and dirty. She’s underweight to the point of being unhealthy, and her clothes are dirty and reek of forest as well as her own body odor. Kanda would guess by the smell that she hasn’t taken a shower in quite a while. 

The Coven had warned them of Witches that went rogue, and that they weren’t responsible for anything that these Witches did or any damage that they caused.

But she doesn’t look like a dangerous ‘rogue’ Witch. 

She looks lost and scared.

But Kanda knows that looks can be deceiving. 

He pounces on top of her with a thunderous growl, his large body easily bowling her over as he pins her to the ground. He growls lowly in his throat while looking down at her, calling upon his guardian spirit and wrapping it protectively around himself in case the Witch decides to fight back. Which is probable. But Mugen can protect him if that’s the case.

_ Of course I would, _ Mugen agrees.  _ I can hardly leave you to yourself, can I? _

_ I don’t know what gave you that impression. _ Kanda grumbles

_ Yourself, of course. _ Mugen replies bluntly, in that sassy way of his. Seriously, how did Kanda end up with such a sassy spirit as his guardian?

_ You know you love me. _ Mugen says smugly.

_ Whatever. _ Kanda shrugs him off.

The whole exchange had gone at the speed of thought, so, no more than a second or two had passed.

The Witch looks up at him with no fear in her eyes. But she doesn’t seem to be particularly defiant either, just… accepting. And something about that makes Kanda’s skin crawl. No longer growling or baring his teeth, Kanda nudges the girl’s face with his snout. The girl smiles as if relieved, her black hair pooled around her like a halo of darkness.

She speaks, her voice hoarse and raspy, as if from long disuse. “Is this the day I die?” She asks Kanda. Then she smiles at him, that same tired, almost pleased smile. “I wouldn’t mind if it was.” She says, and she sounds almost peaceful while saying that.

Suddenly Kanda is disgusted at himself, disgusted at the world. But moreover, he’s angry at some suicidal Witch who thinks that dying is going to make anything better. He steps off of her and over to the side and begins to change. Part of him is chastising himself for leaving himself so vulnerable in front of a possible enemy. Another part of himself is too angry to care.

It can take Shapeshifters about three to five minutes to shapeshift depending on practice and skill. This makes shapeshifting during a fight mostly impossible unless you’re already shifted into your animal form beforehand. Partial shifts are possible, but also dangerous for the shifter if they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing. 

That’s why when Kanda comes out of his shift with a wolf tail and an extra set of ears, he has his claws ready to defend himself. Mugen’s light blue magic curls around him in defense, the wolf spirit’s head coming up by Kanda’s shoulder with his ears pricked and his eyes alert. 

The Witch has sat up since Kanda shifted, looking at him with wide eyes. She doesn’t seem overtly hostile, however. “What makes you think that dying will solve all your problems?” Kanda asks her scathingly.

The Witch looks up at him, and then down at her feet. She shrugs with a sad smile. “It might as well.” She says sadly.

“Why?” Kanda asks, despite himself. Damnit, since when was he some godsdamned Witch counselor? He wasn’t getting nearly enough trade goods for this shit.

The Witch curls into a ball, folding her legs against her chest while wrapping her arms around them, leaning her head on her knees. Sun and Moon, she looked like a good wind could knock her over. “I’ve done some bad things. Horrible things. I thought leaving would make it better, but I guess I was wrong.”

Kanda sighs heavily.

Then he reaches down and yanks the girl to her feet.

She looks at him, befuddled.

“You’re not going to make up for anything you’ve done dying out here.” Kanda states harshly.

The girl blinks at him, and something in her eyes seems to clear. “You’re right. Death… death won’t solve anything. So… now what?”

“You’re coming with me.” Kanda says.

The girl blinks, then frowns at him. “I’m your prisoner?”

“Or my guest. Take your pick.”

Kanda knew he was going to regret this.

* * *

Lenalee Li is not one for being taken off guard.

She had been taught by the Witches to never lower her defenses and to always be on the lookout for her opponents’ weaknesses. But… following her family’s traditions had never gotten her anywhere. It had just made everything  _ worse. _ It had been what made her run away in the end.

So she had found herself ignoring her instincts, because what had been left of her life anyway at that point? But now that she’s back on her feet and in the hands of a dubiously moralistic Shapeshifter, she can’t help but wonder if she’s made a mistake.

Well, being a prisoner is certainly better than being sent back  _ there. _

At least, in her opinion.

The silence between them as they walk through the forest is uncomfortable bordering on awkward. But this Shapeshifter doesn’t seem to  _ do _ awkward silences, so he just blithely ignores it and keeps walking while Lenalee follows behind him, feeling, well, awkward.

Eventually she feels like she has to break the silence.

“So what’s your name?” Lenalee asks curiously, then winces when the Shapeshifter side eyes her with cold blue eyes. His long black hair cascades down his back, long enough to touch the fluffy black wolf tail waving out behind him. His wolf ears are pricked and tipped in white, and the magic of his guardian spirit still faintly stirs around him, dormant but alert. The necklace around his neck jangles slightly as he walks, the sound carried to Lenalee by the wind. The neckerchief around his neck is the only article of clothing he wears.

She should have known that he would know about that. Just as all Witches have acclimated to a Shapeshifter’s nudity during their alliance, so the Shapeshifters have learned some of the less harmful things about the Witches in the process. If a Witch were to learn a person’s true name, they could use it against them, just like a non-magical person could do the same with a Witch’s name.

Lenalee’s pretty sure they don’t know the second part of that clause.

Still, she would like to know this Shapeshifter’s name. Just in case.

Even if she’s a bit relieved about her captivity considering the way she had been taking care of herself so far, considering her current situation, she would like to have some options just in case things go sour.

“My name’s Lenalee.” Lenalee offers, carefully omitting her last name.

The Shapeshifter turns to look at her, stopping them in their trek through the forest. He scowls. “Che.” He turns back around, effectively dismissing her. He hesitates for a moment. “It’s Kanda.” He says quietly. Then he starts walking again.

Lenalee follows.

Kanda starts up the conversation again, much to Lenalee’s surprise. "Do you have a way to disguise yourself?"

Lenalee blinks, surprised. She stops in her tracks. "Why would I need to disguise myself?" She asks suspiciously.

Kanda looks at her impatiently, and then sighs. He levels his gaze on her. "You're a rogue witch, aren't you?"

It feels as if the ground has dropped out from under Lenalee's feet, her stomach churning as bile rises in her throat. It takes her a moment to swallow the lump in her throat so she can speak. "Yes," she finally croaks, "I am a rogue Witch." She looks down at her feet, playing with a strand of her hair nervously. "I-I never wanted to be. But I am."

"Then you know how Shapeshifters feel about rogue Witches."

Lenalee stops, a feeling like ice water trickling down her spine. Shapeshifters had an odd honor code that most of them followed to the letter. It also gave them odd views about the honor held by others. Rogue Witches were seen as having little to no honor at all. Lenalee wasn't sure what this meant about her treatment at the hands of a tribe of Shapeshifters, but it couldn't be anything good. 

"Which is exactly why you need a disguise." Kanda asserts, as if reading her thoughts.

"Why are you even helping me?" Lenalee challenges.

Kanda's face hardens, and he turns away. "Che. My motives don’t matter. I’m helping you, aren’t I?" He reasons, voice hard.

For the first time since she became Kanda’s “prisoner,” Lenalee feels scared. If she’s not welcome with the Shapeshifters, then isn’t she just transferring one hell for another? What’s the point if there will be no freedom, no safety?

“Do you really have any other options?” Kanda asks impatiently, his arms crossed over his chest.

No, she didn’t.

Lenalee sighs. “I think I have an idea.” Lenalee says.

* * *

They were laying on their stomachs, Allen drawing  _ perfectly good _ pictures in the mud on the ground that Lena had made with her magic. There was a cool breeze in the air that Allen half expected to be the result of either Lenalee’s or Komui’s meddling, and Lena was laying across from him, concentrating on a globe of swirling water hovering between her cupped hands. Allen could see the edges of it slowly starting to ice over. He knew the exact moment her concentration broke, the globe of water breaking apart and sloshing into her palms while Lenalee’s lip jutted out in a pout.

“Damnit.” She grumbled.

Allen smirked. “Don’t let Komui hear you talk like that.”

Lena huffed, sitting up and crossing her arms. Her whole front was covered in mud. Despite this, she seemed more amused than angry. “You’re just upset because I insulted your drawings.”

“My drawings are a work of  _ art _ .” 

“They suck, Allen.”

Allen looked down at them. They looked fine to him.

Allen frowned. “What’s wrong with them?”

Lenalee laughed, going to put her hand up over her mouth, before apparently thinking better of it. “Nothing, I guess.” She said fondly.

Her eyes turned serious. “Hey A*e*, why aren’t *** ***** **** ***** *******?” Allen tried to listen to her, but all he heard was static in his ears. He had a sudden sense of displacement, of wrongness, and it sent of trail of ice trickling down his spine.

Allen swallowed past his unease. “What was that Lenalee?”

Lenalee looked at him with concern. “A***, what’s wrong?” 

Was there something wrong? He couldn’t tell. Static buzzed in his ears, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He felt trapped, and overall, he was scared.

“Why are you crying?” Lenalee asked, her voice seeming to echo and come from everywhere and nowhere. Allen could no longer tell. He couldn’t comprehend anything as the buzzing grew overwhelmingly loud and everything around him blurred into a mishmash of light and sound.

“****?”

Allen covered his ears with his hands, trying to block it out, to block everything out. 

“I-”

Allen wakes up.

He finds Timothy has moved to Lavi at some point during the night, laying curled up in the small of his back while Lavi remains passed out on the floor, oblivious. Miranda is wearing her ‘skin, that of a Raccoon Dog, and is curled up near Allen’s feet, sleeping peacefully.

Allen grasps at the slipping tendrils of the dream he’d just had, trying to hold on to it. He remembers… a girl. And static buzzing in his ears. Well, that’s certainly strange. But it’s not like it’s anything important.

Shrugging it off, he decides that so long as he’s up he might as well get up. Moving his legs carefully over the side of the hammock couch to make sure he doesn’t disturb Miranda’s sleep, he sits up and grabs the fabric before it can start to swing, setting it gently back into place. He glances at Miranda, but she seems undisturbed. He steps lightly on the hardwood floors, carefully stepping around Lavi and Timothy, before tripping over a pile of books. The books clatter to the floor, making him cringe.

Timothy’s head darts up with his ears pricked, before his jaw pops open in a huge yawn. Miranda’s eyes open, and she blinks owlishly, her ears flicking in confusion. Lavi snorts before jolting awake, his eyes opening blearily. “Wassit?”

“Lavi,” Allen asks from his position on the floor, “why is your house full of books?” Not that this wasn’t something Allen hadn’t expected from the redhead. But Lavi’s house looks more like a bookstore had exploded inside of it than anything else. Books are piled haphazardly in every knick and cranny of the house, some books opened to random pages while papers of mysterious origin are scattered all over the floor. There’s barely any cleared floorspace to speak of, and some of these books look so old that Allen’s afraid to go near them. 

Lavi looks at him and grins. “Oh, you know me. Gotta keep up that bookworm spirit.”

Allen squints at him, skeptical.

Lavi sits up, shedding Timothy in the process who lets out a displeased yowl. Allen catches his glance towards the window, the unguarded windowpane letting morning sunlight leak through its surface. Lavi smiles gratefully at Allen, something unreadable in his gaze. “Thanks for the wake up call, Al! I gotta get moving, I’m on hunting duty today.” 

“O-Oh. R-Really? So am I.” Miranda says, and Allen turns to see her standing while tying her ‘skin around her waist, a hesitant smile on her face.

Lavi grins at her. “Great! If we hurry we can avoid the morning rush and show up that fucker Chaoji.” Miranda nods in hesitant agreement but looks unsure what to say in response.

_ Who’s this Chaoji that Lavi dislikes him so much? _

_ And what am I supposed to do with myself in the meantime? _

Timothy yawns and gives a big stretch, stretching out his back and forelegs before straightening and kicking his back legs out in obvious leisure. He shucks off his ‘skin and ties it around his waist, looking up at Lavi sulkily. “Can’t I even brush my hair first?” 

* * *

**Jasper Forest: Dusk**

Lenalee fidgets once again from her perch on Kanda’s shoulders, flapping her wings as her talons get a firmer grip. Night had nearly fallen overhead by the time they reached the camp. Lenalee had changed into her feathered form between one breath and the next–did she imagine Kanda's look of envy?–and Kanda had stopped by a stream to, “wash off the stench of magic,” as he had put it. Lenalee had taken the opportunity to stretch her wings a bit, but had had to quickly come back as her weakened body betrayed her.

She finds herself exhausted as she perches on Kanda’s shoulder, never quite being able to get warm no matter how she ruffles her feathers. So it’s no surprise when she falls into a light doze, her eyes falling shut as she shivers in the bracing wind. Just as she falls asleep she feels an odd sense of vertigo, and then something warm supporting her front.

Her dreams are filled with indistinct voices and images.

_ “Lenalee? Lenalee, no… it’s alright…” No brother, it was never alright. _

_ “Lenalee? Lenalee  _ **_please_ ** _ , put down the knife…” Pain and pleasure mixed together, oh how she missed it. She wished brother hadn’t seen her that day. Maybe then, things would have been different.  _

_ “Lenalee? Lenalee, w-what… what have you  _ **_done_ ** _?” I’m sorry, Bak. _

Lenalee wakes up with a startled caw, flapping her wings to keep her balance. The side of her head smarts, and she peers at Kanda’s smirking face and realizes he must have flicked her on the head. Indignant, Lenalee slaps her wing against his face. He carries on, unfazed. Lenalee huffs, refolding her wings against her back. She shivers. She’s still so cold. If it wasn’t for her pride and if they weren’t still strangers, Lenalee would already be leaning against Kanda’s neck to capture his warmth. He seems completely unbothered by the cold.  _ Which I guess he is. _

Shapeshifters have a natural musculature and higher body temperature that keep them fit and unnaturally warm, unaffected by the cold into the season of change and through some parts of the season of snow. Lenalee thinks it unfair that Shapeshifters are naturally gifted with an excellent physique and musculature. At least if the Selkies gain muscles, they gain them through effort, like the Witches. This, of course, doesn’t stop them from having an unnatural strength and speed compared to the Witches, on par with a Shapeshifter’s own.  _ I guess I just have to be grateful for the ( _ _ curse _ _ ) gift that was given to me. _ She thinks to herself.

“Stay alert. We’re close.” Kanda says, his head turned towards her slightly. Lenalee refolds her wings in apprehension. She feels very small as Kanda walks through the forest with her on his shoulder, his feet silent on the forest floor.

Lenalee feels the tingle of magic wash over her just as Kanda steps into a forested glade, the glade made larger by deforesting. Lenalee’s been to the home of the Shapeshifters before as part of the alliance, never enough times to be memorable, luckily for her. So she’s not taken by surprise by the sight she sees, though she has to admit it looks much more beautiful at night. 

The Shapeshifter’s homes are made out of wood, uniform log cabins that are mostly alike in shape and height. There are pathways in between the houses plenty big enough for their over large animal forms to go through, as well as a city center with a fountain in the middle showcasing a rearing lion and a dragon spewing water from its mouth in place of fire. Overhead Witchlights glow, their orb like shapes holding a flickering fire within their depths, casting light on the settlement below. Lenalee knows that the Witchlights are a good thing, a sign of the Witch’s and Shapeshifter’s alliance. But she can’t help but shiver, her stomach churning, as she thinks about what had to go into making them.

Kanda makes his way through the crowd of people, giving casual touches to people that he’s probably familiar with. The crowd is making her nervous, and Lenalee hops, flapping her wings to take shelter under Kanda’s hair. Some of the Shapeshifters give her curious looks, but Kanda passes by them too quickly to let them ask questions. That is until a hand lands on his shoulder. Lenalee jumps, startled.

“Hey Kanda,” a rough voice says from behind them. Kanda bristles and whirls around, eyes flashing dangerously. The man before them is well muscled, with dark hair and a smile as sharp as a knife. The man smirks. “I heard you were on patrol today. Did you find anything of… interest?” He asks, glancing at Lenalee. Lenalee attempts to become one with Kanda’s hair.

Kanda scoffs. “No.”

The man shrugs. “If you say so.” He gives a pleasant smile. “Have a nice night.” He touches Lenalee on the head with his finger, and Lenalee shivers as a tingle runs down her spine, fighting the urge to move away. Then he disappears through the crowd.

Kanda watches him go. “Fuck.” He curses, scowling and running his hand through his hair.

Lenalee can’t help but agree with the sentiment.

* * *

**Jasper Forest: Midnight**

Lenalee wakes up to the sound of the door opening. The cold water in the tub sloshes a little as she sits up straighter. She realizes she must have fallen asleep. Pushing her sudsy hair away from her face, she searches for the clothes she dropped only to find them gone.

Well. Great. What now?

She pauses her actions at the sound of voices. Straining her ears, she can faintly make out what they’re saying.

“Are you sure it's safe for her to be here?” An androgynous voice asks quietly.

“Lenalee is more of a danger to herself than she is to others.” Kanda’s voice replies.

“But Kanda, the Coven clearly stated-”

"Fuck the Coven. What they say doesn’t matter.” Kanda interrupts harshly.

There's a brief moment of silence, and then the other person says, "Kanda, I don't understand. Why do you need to help her so badly?"

There’s silence for a long moment, and then Kanda says quietly, “because no one else will.”

Lenalee looks down at her bath water, turning her attention away from the conversation, something in her chest tightening painfully. She takes a deep breath and sighs it out. It’s really none of her business anyway. She shivers. The water is freezing cold. Hesitantly, she dips a finger down into the water, power flowing through her veins. She immediately pulls her finger out of the water, squashing down the magic inside her. She shivers, but this time it’s not from the cold. Taking a deep breath, she holds back her knee jerk reaction not to use her magic in any way possible. She dips a finger down into the water, summoning the power into her veins as the water beneath her fingertip slowly warms.

She sighs, sinking down into the steaming bath water, ducking down under the water to rinse out her hair. When she comes up, Kanda and another person have burst into the room, and she jumps in surprise. “What did you do?!” Kanda demands, and Lenalee realizes they must have scented her magic.

Lenalee blinks up at them, wincing as soap gets into her eyes. “Um… warmed up the bath water?”

The other person in the room is looking at Lenalee with suspicion and curiosity. They have blue eyes like Kanda, a scar across their nose, and short spiky black hair with a purple streak running through it. “Is that all that you did?” They ask with more curiosity than suspicion.

_ That’s all I can do at the moment, _ Lenalee thinks about saying. But she doesn’t want them to think she was powerless. Even if she’s not really sure that they’re actually her captors anymore. What that makes them now though is a complete mystery to her.

Lenalee nods, sinking further down into the water self-consciously in order to cover herself. “That’s all I did.”

Kanda and the other Shapeshifter seem to be speaking to each other solely with their eyes, before they finally decide to set a watch on her. After Lenalee is done washing, she turns to Kanda, who had been sharpening his sword in the corner of the room, and asks, “where are my clothes?”

Kanda looks up from sharpening his sword. “I burned them.”

“Well what am I supposed to wear?”

Kanda sighs, setting his sword aside. “You can wear something of Alma’s. They’ll probably fit you.” 

Lenalee looks down, swirling her finger through the water. “Thanks, I guess.”

Kanda shrugs, looking almost embarrassed. “Whatever. Come on, I think I know where there are some clothes that might fit you.” With that Kanda gets up and walks out of the room. Lenalee is forced to follow.

* * *

Lenalee sits fully clothed at a worn wooden table nearby a hearthfire, eating a bowl of stew made by Alma that is mostly broth with a few pieces of meat, which she concludes is mostly for her benefit rather than theirs. The room she is in has a sort of warmth about it that only a true home can have, with a couch in the corner against the far wall, and blankets and cushions scattered all over the wooden floor, which Lenalee can only divine the purpose of sleeping on in animal form. There’s a hallway to the left of the kitchen that must hold a bathroom as well as guest bedrooms, and the whole house has a sort of comfortable atmosphere that puts Lenalee at ease.

But despite this, she knows she can’t let her guard down.

Alma comes back with their second–or maybe third, Lenalee wasn't exactly counting considering how much a Shapeshifter needs to eat in a day–helping of stew, sitting down across from Lenalee with a nervous smile. Kanda just continues eating, never taking his eyes off of Lenalee.

Lenalee shifts uncomfortably in her seat as an awkward silence falls, the food she had eaten sitting heavily in her stomach. She looks down into her bowl of stew and her stomach curdles. She sets the bowl down on the table, trying not to let any of her nausea show on her face.

"So, Lenalee." Alma says, breaking the awkward tension in the room, (though only Lenalee and Alma seem to be being affected by it), "what's having magic like?"

Lenalee knows there's honest curiosity in the question. While relations between the two tribes could be described as amenable compared to the broken ties of the Witches and the Selkies some ten years past and the forever standing feud between the Selkies and the Shapeshifters, there's still a lot they don't know about one another.

Lenalee sighs, looking away, a terrible fear inside her. She takes a deep breath and meets their eyes, and then she smiles. "It's terrible. I wish I'd never had magic in the first place."

Alma blinks. "Oh. Well that's…" They trail off awkwardly. Out of the corner of her eye Lenalee can see Kanda pushing another bowl of stew her way surreptitiously, and she gives him the stink eye. Kanda looks her right in the eye and then pushes the bowl of stew right next to the old one. 

Lenalee glowers at him, picks up the steaming hot bowl of stew, and throws it at his face. He ducks out of the way long before her projectile can reach him, stew splashing down onto the table below. He pops back up with a smirk, wolf ears pricked and tail perked, somehow completely unmarked by Lenalee's flash of temper. Lenalee sighs, wiping off her cheek, licking the broth off of her hand. 

She can imagine what her mother would say if she could see her now. According to her parents, a Li must always have strict manners, a slick appearance, and must never, ever show weakness in front of others. And Lenalee must applaud herself in her own goals. She had always been the rebel, her brother always eager to please. 

And she had certainly achieved none of her family's rules today.

"W-Well, Shapeshifting isn't like that. At least, not for me." Alma says with a nervous smile, shooting Kanda a rebuking look.

After some consideration, Lenalee nods with a small smile. “I like my raven form.” She agrees.

Alma blinks. “‘Raven form’...?”

Kanda shrugs. “Shapeshifting into a raven was how she snuck into the camp.”

Alma stares at her, confused and a little bit amazed. “Wow, I didn’t know Witches could Shapeshift.”

Lenalee blushes, tucking her hair behind her ear before deciding she would rather hide behind it. “Well, we can’t Shapeshift naturally like you can, but if we buckle down and study the art for a few years, then it’s at least a possibility.” She shrugs, regaining some of her aplomb. “Not a lot of Witches bother with it though, just because it takes a while to learn. So I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it before.” Lenalee hesitates, peering at them through her bangs. “Am I… your prisoner?”

Kanda and Alma look at each other, Kanda glaring at them and Alma elbowing him pointedly in the ribs. Kanda sighs and turns to her. “Yes and no. We don’t want to treat you like a prisoner, but if you leave there will be consequences for you and us.” 

Lenalee crosses her arms and tries to look intimidating. “What sort of ‘consequences?’”

Kanda sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache. “Your scent is all over our house, and to make matters worse, Sokalo is already suspicious. That means if you get caught, we get caught. And your odds aren’t looking good for a clean escape.”

Lenalee bites her lip. She doesn’t want to be here. She’s gone out of the frying pan and into the fire, and she doesn’t like it one bit. For a moment, she considers simply agreeing and then escaping while they slept. She’s grateful for their help, but she’s not  _ that _ grateful.

_ “Kanda, I don't understand. Why do you need to help her so badly?" _

_ “because no one else will.” _

Lenalee closes her eyes and curses her bleeding heart. It shouldn’t matter why Kanda decided to help her. She should still be able to make her own choices despite his reasons.

But no one had  _ ever _ tried to help Lenalee after the mistakes she had made. As if within the deep pit that Lenalee had dug herself into, a hand was reaching out to pull her into the light. And Lenalee reaches back, holding on tightly.

Lenalee opens her eyes, and she smiles at Kanda. He seems startled by the change before settling into a neutral expression. “I guess we’re in this together then.” Lenalee says with a smile, hold her fist out in the middle of the table.

Alma nods with a smile. “Together.” They agree, bumping their fist with Lenalee’s. They both turn to look at Kanda, but he just scoffs and gets up to sit in a chair by the fire, opening a book that had been laying on a side table next to it. Now that Lenalee’s paying more attention, she notices a large bookshelf opposite the couch, not one shelf bare of books. She turns to Alma, pointing at the bookshelf. “Do you mind if I…?”

Alma smiles. “No, go right ahead. There’s a lot of romance and action novels from the human world that are pretty good, and some mystery and non-fiction stuff that’s okay too.” 

Lenalee smiles back. “Thanks.” The book in Kanda’s hand catches her eye; leatherbound with no discernable title that she can see. She raises an eyebrow. “What’s Kanda reading?”

Alma’s head cocks in animal-like confusion, but then they turn and look at the book in Kanda’s hands. Their eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, those are some old Shapeshifter fables. Kanda likes to collect them.”

Lenalee turns back to the bookcase. There are in fact a lot of leatherbound books on the bookcase, some looking really old. Lenalee’s interest sparks. She’s never read anything about Shapeshifters before except what the Witches know about them, which has mostly to do with spells. “Do you think I could read one?” Lenalee asks hopefully.

Alma looks uncertain. “I’m not sure…”

“It’s fine. Just be careful with them.” Kanda says. Lenalee blinks, but he hasn’t even looked up from his reading.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, even though she’s sure he’s not listening. She picks out one of the sturdier looking ones and and sits against the side of Kanda’s chair, curled up by the fire. She opens the book to page one and begins to read. 

* * *

**Mill Creek Ravine: Midday**

Lou Fa sighs at the feeling of the familiar energy running through her. Her hands hover over wounds that spark and glimmer in her mind's eye, coaxing them into closing and healing over with barely a thought. Her stomach twists when she thinks of the source of this magic, and her concentration nearly breaks before her mind returns to her task.

She can feel the muscles of her patient easing as the pain drifts away. He had only had minor cuts and bruises, but it must have bothered him all the same. The soft green light of her healing magic slowly dies down, and Lou Fa sighs in relief, opening her eyes to fidget with her hands as her patient opens his as well and sits up in bed with a slight wince.

"You're still not healing the muscle soreness?" Bak complains with an over exaggerated wince, rubbing at his arm.

"Oh! Well, if we did that, then you wouldn't build up any muscles from your hard work!" Lou Fa exclaims nervously. Bak sends her a questioning look, so she explains, slightly nervous, _ I know this, don't I? _ "W-Well, when a person works out, the ligaments in their muscles sort of… break. And then, when they reform, they're stronger than before. Which is how, overtime, muscles are built."  _ I think? _

Bak looks at her and smiles. "That was a very good explanation, Lou Fa." Lou Fa blushes at the praise. "But surely for someone as great as me you could make an exception-!"

Rikki bops him gently on the head. "I don't think so." He says calmly, and Bak pouts at him.

"But the great me-!" Bak is cut off as Rikki pushes him out the door and shuts it directly in his face.

Rikki sags with a sigh. Lou Fa has to agree. Bak as a customer is exhausting.

"Well, I'm going to head on home." Lou Fa says, grabbing her satchel and slinging it onto her shoulder.

Rikki nods, a hint of worry in his usually calm eyes. "Alright. Tell me if you need anything." 

With a last goodbye and a twinge of guilt for making him worry, Lou Fa exits the shop and makes her way home.

* * *

Lou Fa walks quietly through the halls of her home, as silent as a ghost. Her home has always had this pervading silence to it, so quiet and so suffocating that she’s afraid to be the one to break the silence.

Not that anyone else would.

She misses her nanny. At least then she had had someone to talk to. But grandfather had said that she was too old for nannies, and had sent her away. And Lou Fa had obeyed his wishes, just as she always had.

Lou Fa’s grandfather is a commanding man who carries with him an air of arrogance and authority that had declined along with his old age. No matter how much Lou Fa strained her magic in order to heal him, no matter how much she guiltily pulled on her source of power, she couldn’t stop the wheel of time.

And it scares her.

After all, grandfather was all she had left.

He always told her, “you carry the family legacy on your own two shoulders. You must make this family proud, Lou Fa.”

Except Lou Fa hasn’t done anything.

Sure, she’s run the shop with Rikki, but that’s not anything noteworthy. She’s desperate and eager to prove herself, to make her family proud.

To make Mum and Dad proud.

She stops by a door that always stays shut in this cold stone house, and after looking both ways to make sure grandfather wasn’t nearby, Lou Fa turns the handle and quickly steps inside. Immediately she sneezes as dust enters her nose, she’s glad of her glasses as they keep most of the floating dust particles out of her eyes. Rikki had offered to heal her eyes when they had started business together, but Lou Fa had refused. There were too many good memories behind a pair of glasses. 

Her mind briefly wanders to a girl with blue eyes and hair the color of blood. A sense of longing goes through her, and she takes a deep breath, only to sneeze violently as the dust particles enter her nostrils. Another person lost. She slumps to the floor of her parent’s bedroom as tears come to her eyes, knocking over a stack of books, making her cough. She takes a picture out of her coat pocket that had been taken with an old non-magical camera. There they are. Her parents and her lost friend, all in one picture.

She sniffles, her hand landing on a random book. _ I just want to make my family proud. _

_ Why is that so hard? _

Family tradition had to be followed. But Lou Fa wasn’t sure if she had the guts to do so for much longer.

_ Please… somehow…  _

She grips the book in her hand, and something dark and sinister slithers into her mind.

A spark of hope blooms in her chest as she looks down at the book. On the front cover is a portrayal of shattered pieces of glass all lined up with a black backdrop, and in each piece of glass is a warped and twisted face. Lou Fa can’t read the title, as it’s in a language she doesn’t know, and it’s almost enough to make her leave the book there before her worries ease.

She opens the book and it seems to flip to a random page, probably bookmarked. She reads over the list of ingredients and takes in the large symbolic circle drawn in the middle of the page.

_ Will this make my family proud? _

**Yes.**

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou Fa, you poor child, you have no idea what I'm planning to do to you... *evil laughter*
> 
> Also, Lenalee's past is kinda mysterious, huh? 
> 
> And I wonder what Allen's dream meant? ;)
> 
> I'm not sure if this fic classifies as a mystery or not, it seems more like a fluff/angst sort of thing, (though mostly angst with just a bit of fluff).
> 
> And Lenalee's last name. It came to my attention that Lenalee's last name in Chinese is actually spelled 'Li,' and that Lenalee had been basically westernized for the english readers. I also remember her first name being spelled 'Lenali' at first, but I like the second version too much to give it up, even though the westernization sort of bothers me. (I'm not saying this particular piece of it is bad, because then when you convert Japanese characters to English that basically makes them already westernized so the point is really moot, but. Idk. It bothers me for some reason).
> 
> Also, fun fact: each tribe lives in a place that actually exists in the real world. I may have renamed them slightly, as most of those places used to be national parks before I stole them for my own purposes. >;)
> 
> A cyber cookie for anyone who can figure out where they are and what they're called. ^^
> 
> Also, I edited the first chapter a bit because there were parts I didn't like on a second read-through. Go check it out if you like!
> 
> See y'all next chap! ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, I just could not get to the part I wanted to get to without making the chapter even more ridiculously long than it already was. So I decided to split it in two and give y’all the second part next time. 
> 
> I admit that I did way too much POV switching which may have been part of what caused the word count to go up so much. I’d say I regret it, but I really don’t. I just hope y’all enjoyed it, and tell me what you think in the comments.
> 
> Also, the whole nudity thing. When my brother and I were planning this out, we had to think about how the cultures would have developed separately from humanity. Would it really make sense for them to wear clothes when, at least back when they were first becoming a tribe, human clothes were hard to come by? It would just be easier to wear their skins and stay away from humanity, becoming animals during the winter and staying indoors while in human form. And as the culture developed, it just doesn’t make sense that they would just cover the women’s chests for no reason. (And anyway, body parts aren’t inherently sexual unless you make them that way).
> 
> So, those are our reasons, and we’re sticking to them.
> 
> Like it? Don't like it? Tell us all about it in the comments section! (We won't change either way, because we've got very specific plans for this, but it'd be nice to know what other people think!)
> 
> Also, Lavi is a bit discriminatory against Witches for his own reasons, (which are perfectly valid reasons, even if the descrimination still isn't okay), so take what he has to say about them with a grain of salt. ^^
> 
> (Oh, and the last names of the Selkies are little nods to the Warrior Cats book series, which will always have a place in my heart. Though I promise 'Fireheart' was the only one I took from the book. The rest I made up on my own. Why Timothy only has 'Lion' and Allen only has 'Brook' also has to do with Selkie culture. You'll find out more about it later). ^^
> 
> Also, I wonder what's going on with Timothy... ;)
> 
> See y'all next chap! ^^


End file.
